Still Here
by Synnerxx
Summary: Glenn's still here, but Mark is not. (Heavily inspired by the song "Still Here" by Digital Daggers)


**Pairing: **Undertaker/Kane (Mark/Glenn)

**Warnings: **None

**Prompt: **The End

* * *

Glenn knows there's something wrong when he gets home that night because the garage door is closed and the usual scattering of tools are nowhere to be found. He doesn't need to open the garage door to see that the motorcycles that usually occupy the space are gone. He goes inside, dragging his suit case behind him, wondering if there will be so much as a note left from Mark.

He heads upstairs to the bedroom and isn't surprised when Mark's things are gone and the man himself isn't there either. The pain makes his heart ache, but he can't say that he didn't suspect that this was coming. He knows better than that. He's seen what Mark is capable of, but he always thought that, somehow, they'd be different. He'd be different to Mark. He isn't. Mark left him just the same way he's left everyone else.

He puts his luggage down and sits on the edge of the bed. He thinks about calling Mark, but he knows he won't get an answer. He really thought that things would be different with him and Mark. He doesn't know why he thought he was so special. He's the one that always cleaned up after Mark and the smoothed over the messes the other man made. He's so tired though, tired fo cleaning up after Mark and tired of being hurt all the time. All he wanted when he came home was a nice hot shower, a kiss from Mark, and then his own bed to sleep in next to Mark. He supposes that one and a half out of three isn't that bad.

He doesn't even want the shower anymore, having rinsed off back at the arena. He's suddenly exhausted and everything aches. He strips out of his clothing and climbs into bed in just his boxers. Tears prick his eyes when he catches Mark's lingering scent on the sheets. He breaks down a bit and grabs Mark's pillow, hugging it to his chest as he breaths in Mark's scent and struggles to force back the tears that are threatening to fall.

If a few tears escape when he closes his eyes, well, there's no one around to see.

The next morning, Glenn wakes up to sunlight spilling in from between the curtains and groans, one hand automatically seeking out Mark on his side of the bed. When he hits only mattress, he pauses, listening for the sounds of the shower, or the sound of MArk cooking breakfast, or the familiar clang of weights from their work out room. When only silence greets him, he opens his eyes and looks around, seeing nothing of Mark's and remembering what he came home to last night. Or rather what he didn't come home to last night.

He drags himself out of bed and into the shower, washing up quickly before getting dressed and going into the kitchen. It's lonely and empty without Mark here. It's quiet too without Mark's running commentary on anything and everything he reads in the newspaper as they eat breakfast together. He misses Mark passing him a cup of coffee as he comes into the kitchen, pecking him on the lips as he walks by to sit at the table.

He misses Mark so much all of a sudden that he has to choke back tears. He wants to demand answers from Mark, wants to know why he left when there was no hint of anything being wrong between them, but he knows he won't get an answer. Mark won't talk to him. If they were to come across each other then, Mark would pretend like he didn't exist and if he had to interact with him, it would be short and to the point, no emotion from the other man.

He's seen it happen a thousand times in the past with Mark. He just never thought Mark would leave him. He thought they'd make it, settle into life together. Retire together. Something like that anyway. He shouldn't have been so stupid. He knew he was setting himself up for heartache when he fell in love with Mark. He knew Mark would take his heart and keep it only as long as it interested him and then leave when he found someone better, more interesting.

He gets up from the table, not hungry anymore. He wanders into the living room and stares blankly around. Mark's favorite arm chair is gone from its place beside the couch. Everything that Mark had brought into the room is gone now. The room, like the rest of the house, has lost its essential Markness. It feels so empty without Mark and his things scattered among Glenn's. Glenn feels empty, hollow, and lost because he doesn't know what to do now. He doesn't know how he's supposed to move on from the man he's been in love with for so long, he can barely remember a time when he wasn't in love with him.

Giving in, he calls Mark, not really expecting an answer. He doesn't get one. He listens to Mark's gruff voice on the recording and leaves a message.

"Mark, please talk to me. Please." His breathing catches on a sob at the end and he hangs up. He refuses to cry to Mark's voicemail. He's not that pathetic.

He is, apparently, pathetic enough to spend the rest of the day wandering around the house, touching empty spaces where Mark's things used to be and seeing all the places that Mark took up in his life and wishing Mark was still there. His phone doesn't ring either.

Glenn stares at the emptiness of the garage where Mark's beloved motorcycles used to be and even misses the scattering of tools that Mark leaves out when he works on his bikes. He wants to be angry with Mark, wants to hate him, but the truth is that he loves Mark entirely too much to feel anything other than heartache and misery because he knows he'll go to sleep in that empty bed and dream that Mark is still there with him and wake up to Mark's fading scent, like a ghost on the sheets, and nothing will ever be the same.


End file.
